You always bring trouble
by ChibyL
Summary: Mickey stood up almost launching himself against Lip and shoving him into the nearest wall. Lip pushed him back and in less than a minute, they ended up fighting down the hallway. "It's my home, Mickey. And I really don't wanna see you here again." Lip punched Mickey, hitting him on the face as he kept yelling, "You wanna fuck my brother? Fine. Do it far from me."


_Hi everyone!_

_Okay so… This came out because I went to the ER the other day and there was a redhead with a broken leg. Of course I had to write this, so…_

_I hope you like it!_

_You always bring trouble with you_

"Lip, quit it! Damn you!" Ian yelled, pushing his brother away from Mickey, who was sitting on his bed.

"He has to leave. Go away Mickey and leave my brother in peace."

As Lip spoke, Mickey stood up almost launching himself against Lip and shoving him into the nearest wall. Lip pushed him back and in less than a minute, they ended up fighting down the hallway.

"It's my home, Mickey. And I really don't wanna see you here again." Lip punched Mickey, hitting him on the face as he kept yelling, "You wanna fuck my brother? Fine. Do it far from me."

Before Mickey had a chance to reply, Ian sprinted between the two of them, half hiding Mickey from his brother's view. "My home too. And I want him to stay."

Lip ran a hand through his hair, aware that he couldn't hit his brother. He spent few seconds to calm his anger down and spoke only when he was confident he could be polite and keep his tone down. "You already forgave him, haven't you?"

Ian shrugged, "At least he sent me texts."

Lip bit his lip. He knew exactly why Ian couldn't forgive him and he knew he had all his reasons.

Lip had been so fully absorbed in his own life that he hadn't even noticed his brother was missing until those soldiers had gone to him.

Mickey had probably noticed the way Ian's body shivered as he spoke. He stepped forward in an instant, pushing Lip again and pressing him hard against the wall, "Leave us alone, ass face," he yelled to his face, adding many threats the way all the Milkoviches used to do.

He had to try and pick up the pieces of Ian's broken heart and Lip wasn't making things any easier.

When Lip hit Mickey again, Ian tried to stop him for the second time.

Then it all happened too fast.

Lip wasted a moment before he could understand that the scream he heard came from his own lips. Then he saw Mickey rushing down the stairs, yelling something he couldn't even have bothered to hear.

His gaze flew to where Ian was laying, at the end of the stairs and his heart missed a beat. He quickly reached them, kneeling next to his brother and praying to a God he didn't knew he believe in, that nothing had happened to him.

"Can't breathe," Ian gasped and Lip blinked a couple of times, unable to do anything else. He reached for his pocket, looking for his phone, only half hearing what his brother was mumbling through his split lip.

Mickey sighed, aware that Lip was useless. "I'll kill you," he whispered through his clenched teeth. Then he moved his hands under Ian's back, keeping him half upright, making it easier for him to breath.

"Wait, don't move him!" Lip tried to warn him, "We don't know if he- oh, God! Wha- what if he broke his spine? What if he-?"

Ian's face went paler than it usually was as he heard his brother's words and Mickey wished he had killed Lip when he had the chance.

"Hold yourself, you idiot! You're scaring him."

Lip shut up and Mickey waited until Ian's breath was slow enough and pushed him with his back on the floor. Mickey inspected his body, taking in the full extent of the damage.

His spine was fine, since he just moved it, he had been breathless because of the impact, or at

least Mickey hoped so. His lower lip was bleeding, so he had probably fallen on his face, but Mickey was pretty sure he had hit his head, even if he couldn't tell how hard. He looked distant, but he could talk, so it wasn't a big deal. His right leg was unnaturally bent inwards, so that was probably broken. And Mickey hoped that was all.

"Ian?" he called, praying for him to stay focused, but the redhead didn't answer.

Instead he started to shiver, moaning in pain. "What's wrong, Ian?" He asked again.

He was crying, "Mickey, it hurts."

Mickey sighed, he didn't even ask what was hurting. "Lip, make that damn call!" he said, looking at him from the corner of his eye.

Lip had his phone in his hands, but he hadn't dialed any number, he just stayed there, with his eyes focused on Ian's shaking body. And Mickey really didn't need him to pass out. "Get out of here ass face and call 911."

When they were alone, Mickey shifted a little, sitting on the floor in a more comfortable position and ran a hand through Ian's hair, removing red strands from his forehead. He was sweating and looked so damn pale. "Ian, look at me."

"Mickey, my leg." Ian cried, trying to sit up, but Mickey gently pushed him back on the floor, resting a hand on his forehead, so that Ian couldn't move his head.

"Please, it hurts," He tried again, but Mickey had a strong grip on him. He really didn't want Ian to see how his leg was. It would have just made him freak out even more.

"You're gonna be okay, Ian. Just trust me for once."

Ian looked at him through his watery eyes, waiting for him to do something, but actually there was nothing Mickey could do at the moment. He just stayed there, rubbing his hand on Ian's arm, trying to comfort him.

"Please make it stop," Ian mumbled at one point. He was talking way too slow, his eyes half closed, his lips barely moving and Mickey was definitely freaking out now.

"What?"

"It hurts."

"Lip, bring me ice and some cold water," he yelled to the man who was still into the other room.

Lip didn't say anything, but few minutes later he showed up with a glass of water in one shaky hand and an ice pack in the other, but he didn't give anything to Mickey. "He can't drink, Mickey. We don't know if he has something- if he- it's first aid, Mickey, he can't-"

"Stop bitching, idiot," Mickey said, taking what he needed from him. What the hell, he thought that Ian was the fag one in that family. Turned out that Lip was just a pussy.

"Looks like he's passing out," Lip noticed and Mickey gave him a look.

He sighed, throwing half of the water on his palm and splashing drops on Ian's face, hoping that it could help him stay up.

When the redhead half opened his eyes again, Mickey took the ice, placing it on his swollen lips, pressing far too hard than necessary.

"Did you call an ambulance?" he asked Lip.

Lip frantically nodded, deciding that it was better if he didn't open up his mouth.

"Good. Heard that, Ian? Just a little more."

xxx

The paramedics didn't take too much time to arrive, but Ian was no longer conscious when they got him.

It was probably a blessing, Mickey thought as he watched how they had to turn his leg to splint it. They put a collar around his neck just in case and an IV in his right arm.

When they put Ian into the ambulance, both Lip and Mickey tried to follow.

"_You can't come with us," one of the paramedics said and Mickey wanted to punch him._

"_You're kidding."_

"_No, he's not." The other said. "We need to go now and you can follow us if you want. But we need room and you can't stay with us"_

_Mickey wanted to object somehow, but Lip stopped him with a strong grip on his arm._

So they had to find another way to get to the hospital and when they did, Ian was having a surgery, to get his knee back in place.

"I'm gonna kill you, you know that, right?" Mickey asked through his clenched teeth.

Lip didn't even look at him. "I already feel like shit. I don't need you blaming me too, thanks."

Mickey stared at him for a while, before pacing all around the hallway, always feeling Lip's eyes on him.

"Need something?" he asked at one point, stopping right in front of him and questioning him with his eyes.

Lip shrugged and snorted, "He looked terrible. What do you think he's gonna think about me? I'm the one who pushed him."

Mickey felt the urge to say something like, "He'll hate you more than he already does," but he decided not to. Lip felt miserable enough, without Mickey turning the knife into his flesh. But he didn't even have the strength to try and comfort him. "It was an accident," he should have said, but hell, he almost killed his own brother.

When the doctor reached them, all he said was that Ian wasn't up yet, but they hadn't to wait too much. Lip thanked him only when he said in which room Ian was and the two of them went for it.

Ian was asleep, exactly as the doctor had said. He had three broken fingers on his left hand and of course his right leg was broken too. There were four stitches on his lower lip and he had a mild concussion, but besides that he was fine. If you could tell that that meant fine.

Mickey was looking out of the window when Ian woke up, moaning and turning around.

"Ian, I'm sorry," Lip started, a little too frantic for Mickey's liking. "I'm sorry, I swear, I didn't want-"

Ian stared at him, blinking numbly, "What?" he asked curiously. He probably didn't understand what was going on and Mickey remembered the doctor mentioning something about a high dosage of drugs both for the surgery and the pain.

He stepped near them, "Shut the fuck up, Lip. He isn't even listening."

And Ian slowly turned to him, opening his mouth in surprise when he saw Mickey. "What happened?" he asked tiredly, as if speaking was taking up all his energy.

Mickey sighed, "You fell from the stairs." No more words. Ian didn't need to know how he had fallen and Lip wasn't going to say why anyways.

"Oh." He blinked again. "How?"

Lip chewed on his finger. "I think I pushed you. But I swear I didn't want, it was an accident. Mickey was home and I didn't want him there."

"Yeah, I got that part," Ian said, a tint of anger laced in his voice.

Mickey gave Lip a disappointed look and he chose the worst moment to confront him. "Why are you looking at me like that? I meant it. I don't want to see you at home. Never again." Now that he was sure Ian was okay, all his anger was back. "You always bring danger with you."

"Said the one who put him here." He had been rude, and he knew that. But he had to defend himself one way or another.

"It was an accident," Lip replied, "And I'm sorry for that. But you can't deny that you've done nothing good to him. He ran away because of you."

Mickey balled his fist, "And I'm trying to pick up the pieces."

"You two, enough!" Ian said. He wanted to yell, but all he could do was mumble those words. "Enough. I know I screwed almost everything in my life. But please, don't make it even worse."

He looked to Lip and then to Mickey. When none of them answered, he just sighed and looked to the ceiling, tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

"The fuck you mean?" Mickey asked, his voice less harsh.

"I mean, I was wrong, okay? I wasn't supposed to leave like that, I should have understood your reasons for what you did," he turned to Lip, "And I should have talked to you. But that's it. I can't change what I did. I just- I mean, I don't want you two doing this."

Lip looked at Ian in surrender, running a hand through his hair. "Fair. But if he screws with you again, he's a dead man."

Mickey just grinned, putting his hands in his pocket while avoiding Ian's eyes, well aware that he couldn't stand his childish look right now. He was just glad to have his Gallagher back.


End file.
